Pyramid Pizza
by KatxValentine
Summary: -Silent Hill 2- Ever wonder where Eddie got that pizza? Lucky Jade Restaurant, a.k.a Pyramid Pizza. We rape and deliver.


It's my first Silent Hill fanfiction, everybody! And after replaying Silent Hill 2 yesterday with some buddies, I seriously couldn't resist writing something to the non-stop jokes that flew right after meeting Eddie in the bowling alley. I don't own Silent Hill, we all know this. On with the show!

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As James saw Eddie briefly, stuffing his face mightily with the cheese-and-sauce concoction looking so scrumptious in the box, he could only ask himself one thing.

_Where did he get that pizza?_

Deep, deep in the fiery pits of hell, at the right hand of the devil, himself….

Well, no, not really, more like just off Katz and Neely Street, disguised as a Chinese joint called the 'Lucky Jade Restaurant', the Pyramid Head slaved away at his oven. This was not, in fact, a den of sushi and dumplings and savory lo mein, this was a backwards version of a pizza parlor. Considering, the way Pyramid Head figured it; everything in Silent Hill was backwards, so why not consider a pizza place a Chinese food place? He didn't know how to make egg rolls, anyway.

He was indebted permanently to Alessa, after all. She had given him life. All that taken into consideration, he needed to pay his undead landlord rent, and in sparse apartments hidden away in corners of the decrepit town still lived the…. well, living. And the living needed to eat, and there was no way they could leave their houses to fetch groceries. And so the Pyramid Head had struck proverbial gold. He would feed the masses (if you could consider them that) by delivering with some form of friendly service (if you could consider _that_ friendly, too) pies of the best Italian dough. Only not really, because he had an extremely hard time preparing the stuff, what with the immense helmet on his head and all. He was one of the last monsters left with enough thought process or intellect to make _food._

The Lying Figures were borderline useless as his delivery minions. They had no actual hands with which to hold a pizza, and when he sent them on runs all they did was kick the box to its destination and it got there covered in viscous fluid (of a very questionable nature) and deformed footprints. The Mannequins had a little more purpose. They'd once been skillful women in heels, so the balance was decent enough for short runs of a maximum or maybe three or four blocks. Then they just couldn't focus long enough to resist the urge to flail. The Bubble Head Nurses tended to be too jerky, so they dropped the boxes almost perpetually and could hardly be trusted with orders. Although, they had the closest to human coordination and could actually _grab_ the item, unlike the other useless idiots.

They just needed a little, ahem, 'motivation'.

And some good ol' Pyramid Great Knife lovin', that was it.

The little girl, the singular child left in Silent Hill (Alessa said her name was 'Laura', Pyramid recalled. Pyramid Head just liked to refer to her as 'the only freeloader not paying rent') had called in an order to Lucky Jade Restaurant, asking stupidly for a carton of sweet and sour chicken. He unhappily informed her, in a voice so loudly grating and metallic it was a bark, that they did not serve Chinese but a pizza could be delivered. The customer was always right, or else he decapitated them.

And let's not even _start_ on the amount of truck drivers he had stashed in the back to threaten as delivery boys. After all, once someone delivered a shipment of dough to Silent Hill, they never left again. And if they never left again they may as well have made themselves useful and started paying rent by being Pyramid Head's bitches.

Sometimes he honestly couldn't help himself. The texture of pizza dough was far too similar to _ahem_, so he couldn't help but _hrm _all over it and then sneakily cover up the deed as quickly as possible. He felt too often like a bad little Pyramid Head. If there was a shower not oozing bodily remains, he would have used it.

"Okay!" Laura giggled into the receiver, once he'd called to ask which entrance of Pete's Bowl-o-Rama should be used, "the front. Fatso will open the door."

It was a decent distance away, so he informed the little brat it would be an hour or so before it was delivery. His delivery people were…. um, _slow._

"That's okay. I hope he doesn't eat his own stomach before you get here, though. He won't stop complaining."

And the Pyramid Head wondered if he shouldn't make this delivery himself.


End file.
